Addict
by Suk-fong
Summary: i'll be your cigarette. light me up and get on with it. i'll be hard to forget. good or bad i'm just your habit
1. crystal meth

1. Couples are not changing from my opinions. So, deal or go away. Flame me, and I'll laugh it off. I have just enough confidence in what I'm writing to not be discouraged by a flame or two. (If there are more flames than reviews, I'm either not doing well or attracting the wrong readers.)

2.** This story is rated T.** So, this is your warning. This is rated Teen- there will be physical relationships, cursing, violence and adult themes. Violence is a part of life for some teenagers. If you still want to read the story, there will be warnings on chapters with any graphic violence, and swearing is at a minimum. Physical relationships will not progress to the stage that it will make people too uncomfortable to read, even if insinuations are made.

3. I don't own _Bleach_. This disclaimer applies to the entire story. If there is a change in this status, I'll be sure to let you know. Got it? Good. I'll say this once more, for the last time this story: **Bleach is not** **mine**. Thank you and good day (or night, or whatever it is where you are), keep being a great audience.

4. Chapter length will very. This will be a medium length story, and some chapters will have more happening in them. This is just a fact of fiction, especially fiction published (or close enough) so casually.

5. Constructive criticism accepted, appreciated, and noted. If a mistake somehow confuses the story, feel free to ask questions. If you ask a question in a review that merits an answer (no, plot points will not be disclosed), I'll post the response on the next chapter. Reviews help me know which parts of this story are good/could be better/are something to read while slitting wrists (well, I hope not, but you never know).

* * *

The pounding beat of the bass made his head hurt. He is on the edge of the mass of sweaty teenage bodies gyrating against each other to the music beat.

The lights flash colorful spots over the people on the dance floor. This party was thrown by…

He can't exactly remember. But it was extravagant.

He decided he should go find out who was the host of this party, and hand them an award.

He nurses a nice beer and takes a swig from the bottle. He watches as the bodies twist and turn and decides he wants to join in.

He starts looking for the Brown Eyed Beauty, who is nowhere beside him. He remembers her kissing him, and saying she's going to head to the backroom.

She doesn't like the noises that come from the party, but he gets off on it.

He winds his way through the sweaty cloud to see the door. Opens it, and finds his girlfriend propped up on the couch. She gives him a winning smile. He sees the rubber tied around her arm, and the spikes decorating it.

'Hey.' He says, and slides in beside her. She smiles and wraps her arms around his neck.

He can see her pupils dilate.

'Hey.' She smiles at him.

'I'm getting lonely on the dance floor.' He tells her.

'I'll join you, but gimme a second.' She kisses him, and stands to kneel at the small table, where she pours a thin line of white powder from a small envelope.

She does the line, and starts to cough.

'Are you okay?'

She starts shaking and frothing at the mouth.

'Momo! Momo!' He screams.

She falls and he screams.

He screams

He screams

He screams.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.

The freshly engraved limestone doesn't help the denial he wants to immerse himself in.

The seven stages of grief float around in his head.

Denial, anger, something, something, something, something, something, acceptance. That's eight stages…

He doesn't really know what the past few days? Weeks? Months? have been like.

'Ya know if you're gonna drink yourself to barfing point, be a dear and barf in the trash can will you? It's disrespectful to barf on a grave.' He turns around and spots the owner of the voice.

A baseball cap low on her head, with long strands of ink black hair. She attire is more befitting for a sporting match rather than visiting a grave.

'What?' he says. She rolls her eyes.

'Slow aren't you?' She says. 'Drink yourself drunk, and then stumble over there,' she points to a nicely manicured lawn, where a bench and trash resided. 'And puke your guts out all you like.'

'Why are you here?' he snaps.

She is loud.

Incredibly loud, and she looks down at the brown paper bag in his hand disapprovingly.

'Passing through?' She shrugs, and she looks at him, dark eyes sparkling, 'Maybe…it isn't your plan to drink yourself to liver cancer instead, you want to blow your brains out.'

He falls silent. The brown paper bag in his hand holds a flask of whiskey, his older sister gave it him.

"It's okay to drink at her grave." She told him. His sister has been drinking at her fiancée's grave for the past four years.

'Well as much as your Darling… whoever, wants to see you, I don't wanna deal with the paperwork.' She pauses, and bites her lip. 'And the groundkeeper wouldn't appreciate it too.'

She stares at him, and he looks down. But when he looks up at her again, she's still staring at him.

'Not many guys want to drink with corpses.' She stated.

He doesn't have an answer. He doesn't know what to say. She doesn't seem to want an answer either.

'Eh, what do I know?' she shrugs, and walks away. 'I'm just a seventeen year old girl.'

He stands at the grave of his Brown Eyed Beauty, opens the flask and drinks.

He drinks.

He drinks.

He drinks.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.

His sister drives him home. Cheery songs jingle from the radio, and he doesn't feel the usual annoyance. Instead he feels woozy.

He stumbles onto his bed, and faces the pictures of them from their childhood to adolescents. His brown eyed beauty looks at him from every surface.

"_Shirou, come play with me."_

"_Shirou try this."_

"_Shirou please…"_

"_I love you Shirou."_

"_Shirou…"_

"_Shirou…"_

"_Shirou…"_

He dreams of her. He likes those dreams; they keep him warm and happy. He is safe and numb within those fluffy tufts of intangible lies.

He is with her.

Always with her, because they promised they would always be together. And promises are never going to be broken.

When he wakes, he is faced with reality. He doesn't blink, getting up and dressing himself in his uniform.

Breakfast is served with Vitamin C and aspirin. He doesn't talk, and his sister is not quite awake.

This is normality, this is reality. What do you do when dreams become easier to live in than reality?

He bids his sister goodbye and hops in his car. Her jewelry hangs from the rearview mirror and dangles as he drives off.

It's almost an automatic gesture for him to switch on the radio, the setting always remain at number one. He detests other noises while he drives, and she is the only one who can turn on his radio without repercussions.

He pulls into the parking lot and walks towards the school. He feels everyone's eyes on him, pitiful stares and whispering around him.

They are tiptoeing on eggshells, trying to hide their sympathy for him, not wanting to watch him break to pieces. But he's already crushed to a million pieces, he can't break anymore.

He walks by a girl with black hair, and she stares at him openly. He adjusts the straps on his bag, and keeps on walking.

He's walking.

He's walking.

He's walking.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.

He is in his office. Sitting, he looks at a proposal from the Rugby team. The other members of Student Council have yet to make it to the office for the daily meeting.

He has worked hard for this position, and he is glad that the gossip of him taking leave since his…had died had disappeared.

He is more than capable to run this school.

'President?' the secretary asks, and he realizes that all the grade representatives, all the secretaries, treasurers, and officers are present. With the exception of the external-vice president, visibly absent by the empty seat next to his left.

He clears his throat. 'First order of business?'

He listens to every grade representative announce details about what's new. He listens to the treasurers discuss about finance.

Checking his watch, he realizes homeroom will start shortly. He stands to dismiss the meeting, but a secretary stops him.

'President, there's one more thing. The Captain of the Girls Senior Varsity Soccer Team is supposed to meet with Student Council today.'

He glares at the young underclassmen, who sits down quickly and looks down at the desk.

'Is she here?' he says impatiently, he doesn't remember meeting with the captain. It is not negligence, in a school with well over two thousand people, he can't remember them all.

'Yes.'

'Bring her in.'

The first thing he notices is that she seems much too short and slender to be involved with sports. Her tie is loose, her knee high socks sliding down below her knees and her hair is choppily cut, but suits her face.

She looks like a China doll, tiny delicate, fragile.

'I am the Student Council President Hitsugaya Toushirou.' He stands and extends a hand.

'Karin.' She tells him, and he flinches. That is the voice of the girl that he met at the graveyard.

Unimpressed, confident and judgmental.

She shakes his hand firmly with more strength than her appearance warrants. 'I'm here to discuss our request to hold a barbeque to fundraise for the Senior Girls Team. We need better uniforms, and the budget isn't enough for us to change them.'

'Have you filled all the necessary paperwork?' he asks.

'Yes.' She says in assured voice. There is a cough, he looks past her to see a girl who he just noticed standing behind her shaking her head. She has light brown hair, and a delicate look, she reminds him of his Brown Eyed Beauty, but a bit smaller. 'I haven't?'

"No…because you had a history report.' The girl reminds him.

'Oh. I'll do them now… but do I have the verbal go ahead to start preparations?'

She stares at him. He looks away, the looks back, and she is staring at him.

'Until we have the official request to process, please halt all preparations.' He says stiffly. He feels an odd sense of victory, at either pausing or cancelling-all-together the plans of the judgmental girl.

She keeps her eyes on him and he feels the anger that rearing its head but then it's gone.

She turns and storms out. The other girl runs after her and takes her hand.

'Why would you do that President?' A treasurer asks, 'That's the Captain of the Girls Soccer Team' he stresses.

'And she must follow the rules like every other.' He says, 'This meeting is dismissed.' The Student Council gathers their items and he watches as they leave.

He watches.

He watches.

He watches.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.

He has received her file and opens it and studies it. He gets her name, her age, and her birthday. He knows she has been on the Girls Varsity Team since her freshman years.

After he finishes reading the carbon copy, he crumples it up and throws it in the trash. He concentrates on the calculus homework in the library.

He is comfortable, sitting at a table hidden behind the stacks of bookshelves. His text book is open, and his notebook has the class's lecture in fine script. On loose-leaf paper, he has almost solved his last problem. But unexpectedly an event form filled out in messy red ink is shoved in his face.

He takes it and looks at the who which is scowling down at him.

'Here's the paperwork. Can we plan now?' she asks.

He is sitting, and she is standing. Her head is just above his.

'It has to be processed.' He says automatically. 'Give it to a secretary, not me.'

'Why do I have to jump through hoops?' she more stating than asking, and pulls over a chair to sit across from him. 'If you're pissed at me cause of the graveyard, that's just petty.'

'I'm not.' He says. Then reconsiders his feelings. He's not mad at her exactly. He's just…shocked that she reappeared.

'Fine. So can we do the barbeque?'

'If it's accepted.'

'And you're the one who accepts them.'

'It's a joint decision.' Where he holds the biggest majority of the power.

'Right. Here's the thing. Be the President, let us do our fundraising. Keep your personal shit out of the business, end of life. Go home and do…whatever the hell happens to make you deal.' He looks up from his homework, and she is glaring at him.

She gets up, and he spots the girl who accompanied her to the office this morning. She is hovering out of hearing range.

'Who is she?' he asks.

She looks over her shoulder, her eyes sparkle and tosses him a lopsided grin. 'My One, and Only.'

He watches her reach the girl, take her hand and walk off. He thinks of his one and only.

His only.

His only.

His only.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.

* * *

A/N: Here is chapter one of 'Addict' .This has been long coming, I'm so glad that I got permission to go ahead with this. And I must thank the awesome Moon of Jupiter for making all of my ramblings make sense. I should warn you all, this is not a happy story. If you want rainbows and butterflies, find something else. This is…gritty and depressing. And written during phone calls to MarginalMary about an equally rainbows and butterfly less IchixRukia story **Cataclysm** by us under **Live not on eviL. **And during anthropology class when we were studying addictions, thus you can understand the title, and the subject matter.


	2. Extsacy

He goes through routine. Wakes up, get dressed, gets to school, goes to his brown eyed beauty, drives home, eats dinner and go to his room and battle the demons.

It's oddly comfortable but numb.

He doesn't have to feel anything.

He is only happy with his Brown Eyed Beauty.

The weekend comes, and he breaks his routine enough to go to the library. He finishes a project not yet due for three weeks.

When the clock hand moves to four, he is kicked out of the library.

He doesn't want to go home.

Home is desolate. _Suffocating_. **Dead**.

His sister has a meeting, and he knows that she will be piss-drunk trying to forget her fiancée.

If he goes home he'll probably…

He walks around aimlessly, down random streets, not caring which in particular, but then he sees a soccer ball roll down the hill. His reflexes react before he could register, and when he realizes, it's already under his foot.

'Thanks.' He looks up from the ball under his foot, and he sees _her_, dressed in sports clothes but missing the hat. She comes down the hill, and he passes the ball. She raises an eyebrow at him.

'Don't see you out of school.' She says. 'You just wear black all the time don't you?'

It's a question that he doesn't bother answering.

Really, she doesn't want an answer anyway. 'What are you doing?' it's an innocent question, and she cocks her head one way to ask. She is courteous to him. He will return the gesture.

'Nothing.' He doesn't lie, and his answer sounds flat.

She doesn't do anything but look at him.

He doesn't feel her pity.

'Wanna walk around?' she asks, 'I got nothing better to do either.'

It's nothing serious. He can see the boredom in her eyes, and he can register the same expression most definitely in his own eyes as well. It's nothing more than killing time.

_Harmless enough._

He nods. She picks up the soccer ball and places it in her backpack and they start walking.

They don't talk, just walk aimlessly. It's nothing that he can read into, and there's nothing she can read into. They are just two high school students with nothing to do this Saturday night.

It's an hour into the wandering when she decided to break the silence.

'Say "beer can" with a British accent.'

'What?' he blinks, mind halting.

She's staring straight ahead, looking at the ice cream store across the street.

'Just do it.'

'Barh Cahn' he tries.

'Did you hear it?'

He sounds stupid, she sounds mildly bored.

'You said bacon in a Jamaican accent.' She tells him as she crosses the street to the ice cream store, he follows her instinctively.

'How is it relevant?'

'It's not.' She says shortly handing him a vanilla cone. 'It's irrelevant.'

_He takes it instinctively._

'Then why did you tell me to do that?' he asks as they enter a park.

_He licks his ice-cream instinctively._

'Do you always do things that are relevant?'

They walk through the park.

There are children there, maybe in elementary school playing soccer on the small field. He is at the exit of the park on the other side when he realizes she isn't beside him.

He looks past and sees her playing soccer with the children. There is a smile on her face and her black hair is moving as she moves, and she is happy and having the time of her life.

He continues walking past the park. All he does is walk past all the flashing street lights and the bright lights from the decorated stores.

He doesn't like the bright lights. He doesn't like noise.

He is standing beside his brown eyed beauty's grave, running his hands down the cold stone, wishing it was her hair that he is touching.

He stands there, and remembers dancing in the rain with her. Hurling snowballs at each other and drinking chocolate milk.

Stolen kisses and blushing cheeks of the childhood sweethearts who were suppose to be forever.

_Ice-cream melts all over his hand._

He becomes cold and numb and when it starts to rain, he goes home, though only because he can't get sick.

He has a school to run.

'Toushirou.' His sister hugs him and he smells the rum and gin on her breath.

'Rangiku.' He says, and steadies her. She flashes him a smile and takes his hand, dragging him to the kitchen table. There are scattered empty alcohol bottles and a half filled cup. A framed picture of her fiancée is resting on the table, as well as a smaller frame of his brown eyed beauty.

'Drink with me.' she says. 'It's too lonely to drink by myself.'

He nods. The liquor burns his throat, and takes his breath away, if only for a while. It warms his body and numbs his mind.

He likes it.

He likes it an awful lot.

'Take one if you love her.' she says pouring shots in juice glasses.

'Take two if you wished you fucked her.' He takes two, and she smiles knowingly.

'It hurts like a bitch. It stings like a bitch. And you wish you were dead just so you could touch her.'

He pours himself a cup and drinks it. When he puts the cup down he asks, 'Does it ever get better?'

His sister drinks more, and then looks at her fiancée. 'No.'

He closes his eyes and nods his head.

He nods.

He nods.

He nods.

x.x.x.x.x.x.

He is at school, and he sees the girl who is always with _her_. He can't remember the girl's name, but he knows her as the Soccer Captain's One and _Only_. The girl is with a group of friends, smiling and looking like his Brown Eyed Beauty, but not enough to hurt him more than numb him when she smiles.

'President! President!' he stops, and sees her running after him. Her hand is holding a red haired boy, he remembers the boy as Captain of the baseball team. The redhead is scowling at him.

'What?' he asks. He wonders if the Captain of the Soccer Team knows she's being cheated on by her one and only.

'Karin's on the roof.' She tells him. 'I think she feels really bad about something she said. You should see her so she can apologize.' She smiles prettily. And he almost wants to hold her. She reminds him of his Brown Eyed Beauty.

The red haired Captain takes her close, almost to remind him that this girl, the Soccer Captain's one and only, is the baseball captain's girlfriend.

He turns and leaves. If the girl is on the roof, she should do them a favour and jump off.

He doesn't understand what the girl wants with him at all. If anyone is to apologize, it's him.

He left her in the park, though neither were in the mood for company.

He is in calculus, when he remembers he has to tell her that she can have her barbeque. It's irritating, but he doesn't know where she'll be; she'd find him if she wants to say something.

There is an announcement on the PA, and he is called down to the guidance office. He stands to leave, and gathers his things.

He gathers.

He gathers.

He gathers.

x.x.x.x.x.x.

The Guidance Counselor is a doctor in his early thirties, with blonde hair and a wide grin. For the first ten minutes they look at each other.

'Who is she?' the Guidance Counselor asks.

He names his Brown Eyed Beauty.

The Guidance Counselor pulls her file onto the computer screen.

'External Vice President of Student Council.' The guidance counselor turns to him, and he sees the gold band on his left hand. 'Impressive.'

He nods.

The Guidance Counselor stands up and stretches. The man is lanky, and he sees another gold ring, smaller, more feminine on a chain around her neck.

'I can go on about stages of grief.' He tells him. 'But I doubt you'd listen. I didn't listen. And I hate talkin' like I know everything, but take it from someone who's been there. Move on.'

He stares at the blonde man. He's never given him much thought, but his office is bare from personal pictures, except one of a rhinoceros, which is small and framed and set at the back of his desk.

'Have you?'

'No.' the guidance counselor is blunt. 'But I'm not in high school. You're young. And I don't care how long you've had with her. She's dead, and you're alive. And you're too young to throw everything away for the dead.'

'How'd she die?' he focuses on something to change the attention from him.

'Mugging. How'd yours?' the Guidance Counselor is giving him back what he is getting.

'They didn't tell me.'

'They only tell next of kin, and the kin tells who they want.' The Guidance Counselor says unsympathetically. 'They didn't tell you, cause they wanted you to get on with your life.'

'Have you?'

The man blinks, and lets out a deep breathe. 'As best as one can, when their world is taken off its axel.'

'Then why are you telling me to move on when you haven't?'

'I'm forty-five. She's been dead for fifteen years. We were together for twelve years, and married for seven of those.' He looks at him. 'I've spent more time with her ghost than her. But you're young. Don't be stupid and make mistakes everyone else has already made.'

'And they are _my _mistakes to make.' He says. His head hurts.

He keeps seeing his sister, and the Brown Eyed Beauty, and the fiancée.

'You're gonna be sorry kid.' The guidance counselor says. 'There doesn't need to be more frozen people.'

'Is this all?' he says stiffly. 'I'm going now.'

He leaves and ignores the goodbye called after him.

He ignores.

He ignores.

He ignores.

x.x.x.x.x.x.

He doesn't go to his Brown Eyed Beauty's grave. He walks around town, before feeling his phone vibrate, His sister has been offered a promotion, and she doesn't know what to do. He offers his congratulations and no advice.

He stops at the apartment quickly, and then heads to the limestone grave.

The flowers people brought have long since wilted, and she is visited by only him.

'Hi.' He says, smiling at the grave. 'I'm home.'

He unscrews the bottled lid and drinks. He pours some for her.

He pours.

He pours.

He pours.

x.x.x.x.x.x.

* * *

A/N: Well here's the second chapter. I should warn you, it's depressing, rather much so. Also, for those who were looking for a story that I promoted earlier, I have to apologize. An executive decision to take it down has been made. It's missing what we want, and nothing short of perfection is going to be allowed. Thank you for reading, and I apologize for any incontinences.


	3. acid

He is walking through the school hall, looking for the black haired girl. No one has seen her and her One and Only tells him once again that she is on the roof.

He has avoided the roof, hoping he'd find her somewhere else around the school.

No avail.

He sighs and makes his way to the roof.

It's not somewhere students are allowed to go, and no one goes there. But he finds the girl teetering on the the edge, lying on her back, staring at the sky.

His heart tightens as she rolls closer towards the life ending drop.

'You should move away from there.'

She opens a lazy eyelid. 'Why?'

'You're too close to the edge. You'll fall.' He points to her the obvious. She smirks.

'Then I die.' She simply states. 'Death. Life. The two are interchangeable.'

'No.' he says firmly. 'If someone dies, they can't hold their loved ones.'

She shrugs. 'What do you want with me Mr. President?'

'You can have your fundraiser.' He informs her in his deadpan voice.

She grins. 'I know.'

He blinks, and wants ask her how? but doesn't ask.

They fall into silence neither of them want to speak. She seems content with hogging all the sun to herself on the roof.

He shuffles between his demons, he _needs_ to break the silence.

'She's cheating on you.' He says uncomfortably. She opens her eye, and throws a look at him quizzically. 'That girl you're with.'

She sits up. 'Yuzu and Jinta? Yeah I know.' She says without any chagrin or fluctuation of emotion. She is calmly discussing her cheating girlfriend with him.

'Aren't you mad?' he asks slightly incredulous.

'Why? He's a good guy, and he hasn't made my sister cry.'

'Sister?' he repeats astonished. He compares the mentally and concludes that they look nothing alike.

'Yeah.' She smiles, a wistful sweet twinkle in her eyes. It's soft and almost makes her pretty. 'My One and Only twin sister.'

He doesn't admit his mistake on how he spent the past three weeks or so thinking they were dating.

'Why are you on the roof?' he switches to another topic.

'I like the height.' She says, wind ruffling her dark locks, 'The feeling of being so high and close to heaven.' She breathes in the world.

'You think this is close to heaven?'

'Until we all fall down.' And plops back down on her back again.

The bell rings. She gives a stretch, stands up…and…

and wobbles.

He panics and shoots over to grab at her. He doesn't need the paperwork of _another_ girl dying in front of him.

'Perspective President.' She clucks her tongue, and salutes at him with a wink. She scoots out of the way and he sees over the edge of the roof. About five feet down, there's a projection almost six feet extending past the drop. She turns and says 'Ya coming? We got calculus.'

She leaves and he watches.

He watches.

He watches.

He watches.

x.x.x.x.x.

The barbeque goes on the next week. Its execution is neatly planned and a breeze. He has a queer feeling that, even if he didn't give approval, she would go ahead and do it anyway.

There's a crowd and the food flies away fleetly. They are sold out within twenty minutes and he stays and watches them clean up.

'Enjoying the manual labour?' he calls, watching her pick up a propane tank with little sign of any struggle.

'What can I do for you President?' she asks, 'If its food, well, we've sold out.' She motions her head at the empty booth.

'Got enough for uniforms?' He goes straight to their aim.

She nods, and checks her watch. School has ended already.

'Good.'

'You never answered my question.' She points out.

'I'm the president. I have to oversee all the events.' He tells her.

She nods. He watches as her teammates all say their goodbyes to her before scattering their ways.

'Where's Yuzu?' He asks. He is used to seeing her with her girl, and he is used to the numbness when he realized that Yuzu bares little resemblance to his Brown Eyed Beauty, all but her mannerism.

'She's with Jinta. The baseball team has a game today.' She tells him, and she grabs her bag and starts to head home.

'Do you want a ride?' he asks, sliding his hands into his pockets, casual habit.

She turns and smirks at him. 'Sure.'

Little to no conversation happens between the two of them, with the content rumble of the moving vehicle. She doesn't fiddle with the radio dials and try to play music. Instead, she sits, quietly and stares out the window at the moving world on the other side.

She smiles and nods her thanks as he pulls in near a clinic. She walks up the driveway and disappears into the house.

He continues driving

He drives.

He drives.

He drives.

x.x.x.x.x.

Holiday pass in eggnog and cheery carols his sister sings. He doesn't think of it as anything but another year with loneliness.

He walks past a snow covered field, and stops. There she is, running through the snow, kicking a soccer ball into the goal.

She is too peculiar for him not to comment, and the words escape into the air before he can regret it.

'So?' she asks, bouncing the ball off her knee.

'Why are you…training?' he raises a brow as white as the snow fallen.

She looks at him like he's stupid. It's something no one has ever done before. 'We're going to win the championship.' She tells him. 'It's the last year right?'

He knows that this year they graduate.

It's all he's ever wanted. To prove himself in science, maths or physics or whatever the world thinks life worth. But he doesn't want to go, he's not ready or willing to leave this place.

'Yeah.' He answers with one a syllable word.

She kicks the ball into the goal again, and turns away from him. 'I wanna make a legacy.' She declares.

'What? Why?' he asks.

'So I'm worthy of being remembered.' She tells him, as she picks up the soccer ball. She walks past him, where he stands.

He stands.

He stands.

He stands.

x.x.x.x.x.

At school he runs his ship.

No incidents happen in his reign.

He is perfect as president. He is perfect as a student.

There are no chinks in his armor, well, except one maybe - The girl who is in his calculus class and his physics class. She sits at the back of the class, not speaking up when there are questions, and scrutinizing her textbook with her glare.

She is sullen it seems. Going through the motions only lighting up when her sister or teammates are around.

He finds her in the library, all her work sprawled out on a table, she and her sister talking quietly to each other at each end.

'Hey.' He greets.

She looks up from an impressive doodle of their calculus teacher. 'Hi President.'

There's a pause, and then she turns back to the doodle.

'Hey Karin,' both heads turn to the voice of the arrival of the lanky baseball captain. 'Me 'n Yuzu are going now.'

'See you at dinner.' Her sister gathers her things and smiles brilliantly waving as the two exit the library.

'Did you want something?' she asks, now glancing up at him.

'No.'

She doesn't say anything, but switches from her calculus homework to geography.

He sits at the opposite end of the table and opens a physics textbook.

It's silent as they study until the library closes, and they have to leave. He offers her a ride home, it's biting in the February wind.

She refuses him with a smirk and leaves.

She jogs down the sidewalk, as he walks to his car.

He walks.

He walks.

He walks.

x.x.x.x.x.

He tightens his scarf around his neck, and watches the clouds stream across the sky with his Brown Eyed Beauty.

The limestone grave supports him as he drinks. He falls back into the snow, expecting her arms. He lies there, watching the sky, absentmindedly tracing designs on the cold as death limestone. His phone rings, he ignores it.

He ignores.

He ignores.

He ignores.

x.x.x.x.x.

In physics the girl starts talking more. A new student has transferred in and has taken residence beside her. He is, from the conversations he overhears, a soccer fan and the two argue over the best teams.

There is one extremely heated discussion that ends with the two not speaking, and she moves to sit beside him.

He doesn't ask, she doesn't say.

The class is assigned in pairs for a project. He happens to get the girl who beside him, they barely talk or cross over.

The project is an ice breaker, they both agree, or rather, she tells him to head to her house after school to work on it.

'I have to go home first.' She nods.

He drives her, but they stop at his apartment first. She follows him to the kitchen, where he asks if she wants anything to drink. When he opens the fridge she sees the assortments of alcohol bottles. He closes it hastily, and leaves.

'It's a nice place.' She comments with a dimple.

'It's big. Only my sister and I live here.' He informs her, He enters his bedroom and she trails behind him like a curious duckling.

'What happened to your parents?' Her eyes sweep his room briefly.

'They died when I was twelve.' He tells her and smiles when he is greeted by his Brown Eyed Beauty.

There is a gasp of breath, and she turns to the girl. Her mouth is slightly agape, and her eyes wide as she takes in the picture.

'Who is she?'

'My girlfriend.' His words are gentle.

She looks at him. 'Lucky guy.'

In return he smiles softly at his Brown Eyed Beauty.

He smiles.

He smiles.

He smiles.

x.x.x.x.x.

* * *

A/N: I have to appologize. I am so sorry that this is late. Excuses are for the weak and incompatant, and so I will make none. I will say howver, I was terrifided that I wouldn't have this posted today. Not because if it wasn't done, but because of other circumstances. To make it up to you, I shall be adding onto the Ohio Legacy, another one shot up tomorrow, but I need to decide between a Yuzu fic, or more Hitsugay/Karin. It will be up, and please see it as my sincere apppology for being late.

Again, I am sorry, and thank you to Moon of Jupiter for being amazing


	4. Heroin

He is sitting on the bleachers, watching the girl chase a soccer ball. Beside him is her one and only sister cheering her on, screaming her name at the top of her lungs.

He doesn't know why he's here.

It's loud, too loud.

The cheering from the stands echoes and resonates through him bouncing off his emptiness. The loudest of cheers come from the small girl beside him, and her father.

This is the opening game against their rivals. The whole of the bleachers are holding their breath as she aims, she kicks. The ball flies in the top right corner of the goal swiftly.

Everyone stands and erupts in cheers, he remains seated. She celebrates with a smirk and a wink at her sister. Then just as quickly as the goal is scored, she turns around and forgets about it, her mind on the next.

'Aren't you glad you came?' her sister asks, she beams at him. 'Karin is going to lead the team to Nationals. It'll be amazing!'

When she smiles like that he can almost see his Brown Eyed Beauty in her, but then it flickers like the candle light, and all he sees is her sister.

The game goes on to give and take. Neither side yields and he watches the girl. She morphs from, the girl who says and does things he doesn't want to hear or understand, into the soccer captain.

She is fast, strong, and worthy of respect. She is supposedly a midfield player, as her sister tells him, but one of the younger players had been too scared to play forward for the first half.

Apparently she made a deal. She will play forward until the first goal is scored then they will go back to their normal positions.

He thought of her as a natural, playing as forward, but he sees her thrive as a midfielder. She runs up and down the field effortlessly, getting the ball and protecting it from their goal.

When she is sent tumbling because of foul play, she gets up and gets yellow carded for kicking both the ball and the player who sent her tumbling in the first place.

She is vicious, unrelenting, and unforgiving. Tooth and nail she will fight, and the whole team fights for victory.

When the ball sails in as the whistle blows, the entire team hollers in delight. The people on the bleachers are up, and they cheer, and he cheers, for the win.

He cheers.

He cheers.

He cheers.

x.x.x.x.

The afterglow of the victory suits her.

He is led to the field, after the mass of people have left, by the father, sister, brother, bother's wife, and sister's boyfriend.

She is grinning, widely and lopsided not stopping for a pause, as she is pushed into tight hugs by her welcoming party.

'That goal Karin! It was so good, so neat and then when that girl fouled you. That was totally not cool' Her sister babbles.

'Totally.' She grins. 'Nationals here we come!'

Her brother scoffs. 'It's only one game kid.'

He is instantly reprimanded by his wife and sister, with his father echoing loudly.

'Victory party dinner tonight!' Her sister says as she hugs the girl.

'Yes. I love Victory Dinners. Yuzu always orders in the best food!' The family shares a laugh.

He feels odd, not being excluded, but not being included either.

He doesn't know why he's here.

They start to move towards the parking lot, and he is surprised to hear himself offer to drive her home.

He's even more surprised to hear her accept.

When she's walking with him to his car, they both ignore the grins of her family on their backs.

They are the last to leave the parking lot.

'Hey, do you wanna just drive around for a bit?' she asks.

He nods and he takes a different route from their fleet of companions.

It has become, in a few short months, a common thing for one to find the other and suggest, to take a walk or drive around.

He likes the calmness that they bask in, and the comradely feelings in the solitude.

He doesn't know why she comes with this.

"_Boredom"_ she says, but he thinks she might be lonely sometimes. Others, he's not sure.

They near a forest, and he swerves in and parks the car, they both get out. She stretches herself on the hood, basking in the warm hues of the fading sun.

'I'm glad you came.' She starts, sunset twinkling in her eyes.

'I always go to the first match of the season.' He brushes it off. It's his duty as president.

'Still…the fact you stayed until the end is a nice touch.'

'I don't like sports.' He denies her.

'Why?' She lifts her face at the sky.

'It's a waste of time. Idiots can chase after balls.'

'Oh and geniuses can't?' she shoot back without opening her eyes. 'I bet you like pool-oh I'm sorry, Billiards, that's trig.'

They fall into silence.

'I never like it.' he tells her. 'Neither did my girlfriend.'

'You talk about her a lot.' She says.

He shrugs. 'I love her.'

'Yeah.' It sounds accusatory, without actually accusing.

'Yeah. She's the most amazing-she's just….I love her.' he says after failing to find words that can describe his Brown Eyed Beauty accurately.

'She didn't love you.'

_She pinches him._

He stares at the girl, sunning herself on the hood of his car without a care,

'She does.'

'No.' the girl says again. 'She didn't. She doesn't. She was a junkie, like _huge_. When she didn't have enough money, she slept with her dealer to get stuff. Remember Aizen? He graduated three years ago. He's the dealer. He gave her this pipe when she turned to shooting heroin. Really pretty. Anyways she slept with him to thank him.'

_And she pokes at him._

'You're wrong.' He tells her, and gets off the hood off his car. It bounces up and down from the force.

His Brown Eyed beauty smoked pot. He knew that, but most of the school did too.

'No. Everyone knew. Except _you_. You're too in love with her to notice she was flying high six days out of seven.' She doesn't change the tone of her voice. It's still even, and normal.

_And she prods him._

'How do you know?' he demands, his voice lifts an octave

She props herself up with her elbows and looks at him. Her granite eyes unreadable, dark and unyielding, he feels bare under them.

'I never met her at school. But the clinic has a rehab program. She went through the program at least five times, since grade nine.' She says quietly.

_And she stings him_

'No. No you're wrong. She wasn't, she isn't a junkie.' He tells her.

'She was and she overdosed. It was crack laced with E that she snorted. My dad found powder in her nose. And heroin was already in her system. She was fucked. She had a brain aneurism and died. At seventeen, if that's not a junkie, then what the hell is?'

_And she tears him apart._

'You're lying. She loves me.' he shouts viciously.

'Not as much as you loved her. You know what she loved? That pipe. That was her most prized possession. She had it in rehab and just held it. That pipe was more important to her. If you were so important why would she sleep around? Cause it wasn't just Aizen. Anyone with what she wanted she'd do-' she yells back.

'Shut up! _You're_ wrong! _You're_ the one that's WRONG!'

'No I'm not!' She wants him to face reality.

'You don't know her.' he spat out at her face.

Her eyes are flashing in defiance. She has lost her cool that keeps her together, and she breaks him down.

'Maybe I don't, but it seems like I know her better than you.'

'You don't know me either.' He snarls.

'No.' she admits. 'I don't. But I know that you're a fucking alcoholic like your girlfriend was a fucking junkie.'

'My girlfriend just died, I think that calls for a drink.' He throws his excuse into the fight.

'Seven fuckin' months ago. Your lying, unfaithful girlfriend with enough drugs in her body she could be a pharmacy. While you, drink your self to liver cancer because you love her so much you can _die_.'

This is enough.

This is too much.

This is not enough.

Everything is just not what he needs, wants.

'Shut up.' He orders her, he grabs her arm, and swings her around. 'Shut your fucking mouth.'

'Why President?' she sneers and pushes him away. 'Is the truth something you don't want to hear? Too bad. Because someone's gotta tell you to wake the fuck up. She's dead, and you're worshipping her. Your room's a fucking shrine!' she screams at him at the top of her lungs.

He balls his fists and the muscles in his arm tense. The need to stop her mouth, his temper is rising, and she keeps on talking, taking the air from around them to fuel her lies.

'Shut up.' He roars and grabs her. She is nailed against his car and he is too close to her. He can count every lash, and he can see the fear of _something_ reflect in her eyes – _him_. She swallows, and the emotion recedes from her pupils.

He is very aware of his nails digging into the skin of her arms, and he is aware of the coarseness of his voice.

He is too close to breaking, and she isn't moving. He lets her go, and turns away. If he looks at her again something will happen that he doesn't want.

'Get off the car.' His breathing is even.

He is calm and in control of his voice, if nothing else.

When he hears her shift off his car, he manages to get inside and start the engine. He drives away and doesn't look back.

He doesn't.

He doesn't.

He doesn't.

x.x.x.x.

* * *

A/N: Here's the boiling point. Thank you so much for reading. And as always thanks to Moon of Jupiter for making a mess into art. Or not art...but this!


	5. cocaine

He is here. This is where he belongs.

Where he _always will_ belong.

Here with his Brown Eyed Beauty and **no one** else.

No one else is _needed_.

He doesn't want _anyone_ but his Brown Eyed Beauty.

He doesn't need anyone, and there is _no one_ that can change his mind.

**Ever**.

He drinks and falls into her sickly sweet embrace.

She kisses him, and cradles him.

"_Shirou, promise me something."_

He holds her close, so close that there's nothing in between them, but cloth. 'Don't call me Shirou.' He snaps back at her almost automatically.

She laughs and her breath tickles his ear.

'**Anything**.' He promises her, because he's never denied her anything. Why should he start now when he's finally got her in his arms again?

"_Love me."_

And he kisses her.

Because that's all he needs.

That's all…

He needs.

He needs.

He needs.

x.x.x.

* * *

A/N: I want to thank everyone who reviewed and I hope everyone finds peace of mind and happiness. I hope I don't disapoint. Thanks to Moon of Jupiter for everything 3 you


	6. Maurijauna

He is woken up by the groundskeeper.

He further humiliates himself, by staggering to a trashcan and vomiting the whiskey he had downed the night before.

The groundskeeper is unimpressed, but refrains to say anything. He is thrust with the empty bottles and pointed towards the exit.

He staggers to his car and drives himself to his house, crashed onto bed and falls asleep while staring at his Brown Eyed Beauty. He hopes to stop the jackhammer drilling to the brain.

No, it's not a jackhammer that's hammering his within his head. It's the feeling that his head is being used as a soccer ball, being kicked about by the girl viciously.

He is woken by his sister entering his room and sitting on the bed.

'Wake up.' She kicks him and he stirs grudgingly.

'What?' he deadpans.

'You know the promotion to vice-president of marketing that I got?' she asks, tossing her strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder.

'Yeah.'

'I turned it down.' He waits for the coming explanation. 'It just didn't feel right. Like I just…' She trails off fumbling for the right words.

He is silent and the siblings sit beside each other thinking about the future.

'She's pretty.' His sister comments, 'She would've been a heartbreaker in a few years.'

It's innocent. But…but it's not. Because his Brown Eyed Beauty doesn't have a _few years_.

She had seventeen years, _only_ seventeen. And he can claim those forever, can't he?

'Do you love Gin?' he asks.

He's never asks her that. It's always been assumed.

She was going to marry her childhood sweetheart when he died in a car crash a few months before the wedding.

'Yes.' She says simply. 'He's all there us to me.'

He takes her word in, and looks at his sister.

She hasn't changed.

She hasn't changed her hair from the style it was when he died. She still wears his ring and goes to the same places they went together.

'I think I gotta go.' He says running a hand through his messy hair, and pushes his sister away.

He grabs his coat and throws it on, his keys in hand, and he's in the car, studying her jewelry hanging from his rear-view mirror.

They are pretty pieces.

Every one which he had chose and given to his Brown Eyed Beauty throughout the years. They hang, untouched and dusty.

He wonders why they hang around her mirror and not around her neck.

He can't stop thinking.

He thinks

He thinks.

He thinks.

x.x.

He knows this address, this house like he knows like his own.

This is where he spent his childhood.

With her, his Brown Eyed Beauty. But since high school, he has come to visit less and less. His Brown Eyed Beauty preferred his house to her own.

He is shaking and he hesitates and paces back to his car, then back up the porch to the door. He repeats and repeats the circuit until he has no more excuses.

He knocks on the door, and when it opens he is greeted by a familiar face. His Brown Eyed Beauty's grandmother wraps him in her arms, and ushers him in with nothing more than love and a smile.

He is set on a worn couch and given cookies.

'I haven't seen you in years Toushirou' she tells him.

"I know" he is guilty.

"I thought I would see you more after Momo died." she says matter-of-factly.

He swallows his cookie.

"I…" he doesn't know what to say.

'I haven't touched her room. Figured you'd want to come take your things.' her grandmother says after the awkward small talk.

He follows her to the room of his Brown Eyed Beauty and as he enters the room, he is overtaken by the scent.

Not hers.

It's not hers at all.

It _shouldn't_ be hers.

It is of musk and stale air. It is obvious that no one has lived in this room for awhile.

'I'll give you a minute.' she smiles and him and closes the door behind her and he's alone in the room of his Brown Eyed Beauty.

There's a layer of dust on all the furniture and not a lot of pictures of anyone. There are posters of celebrities pinned to the wall.

On her vanity, there is a collection of necklaces including a gold 'A'. He runs his gaze over the room and sees nothing he gave her visible.

_Where are the precious memories he had in this room? _

_Where are the photo booth photos pinned to the wall and the posters of kittens? _

_Where _is_ his Brown Eyed Beauty in this mess?_

_Nothing_ smells like her and the clothing lying haphazardly on the chair - he's never seen her wear before.

He moves to the bed and collapse on it.

The pillow feels hard. He runs his had under and flips it up to look underneath. He finds a glass pipe.

It is beautiful pipe.

It looks like it was made especially for his Brown Eyed Beauty, and when he holds it close to study it more… He smells her.

He almost drops the pipe, but catches it before it hits the carpet.

It's not that long and it fits smugly in the palm of his hand. The light catches the colors on the glass and it sparkles. It looks majestic, something he can see his Brown Eyed Beauty being captivated by it day after day.

He throws it down in frustration.

That stupid, _stupid_ **girl**!

_Why_ is she doing this to him?

She's like a vulture that picks at road kill until there's nothing left but the bones.

She's making him doubt his Brown Eyed Beauty.

He opens the drawer in her bedside table in desperation to find a piece of him left, and he finds a plastic bag filled with green (what?), and needles, and white powder.

His mind runs through their history.

She never…

His Brown Eyed Beauty is not…_was not…._

She_ wasn't. _

_Wasn't._

Isn't?

**Is? **

She…

He is confused.

So confused and nothing makes sense to him.

His Brown Eyed Beauty doesn't make sense anymore.

_It's not…_

Why does she have _this_? She told him again and again that she didn't like the powder or the needles. She had seen too many movies that showed them screwing up. But she has needles in her drawer.

He moves past the needles and finds photographs.

He takes them out and flicks through them.

There is his Brown Eyed Beauty smiling at him from the glossy picture.

_He smiles back…._

But as he goes through them, he sees his Brown Eyed Beauty with another man, older with brown hair and a nice expression that he doesn't believe.

_His smile disappears._

The photographs progress to feature just the two of them.

_Pictures of his Brown Eyed Beauty smoking._

_Pictures of his Brown Eyed Beauty kissing the man._

_Pictures of his Brown Eyed Beauty shirtless holding the man._

He is sick and everything is wrong, but he can't stop himself from going through the hundred or so pictures, starting from when they were fourteen and ending the September she…

She died.

He couldn't stop himself from the building hatred of this man, for corrupting his Brown Eyed Beauty.

But is _this_ his Brown Eyed Beauty?

He doesn't know anymore.

He is lost.

He shoves the pictures back into the drawer and slams it shut. He moves to leave, but sees her phone on the desk.

He's already destroyed her privacy, what's looking in her phone going to do?

He'll add that to his list of sins.

Her phone is not locked and not dead either.

There are pictures of him, pictures of them together.

He feels happy and content.

He has found it.

The proof of him in her life, he existed to her.

He flicks through her messages and the illusion comes crashing down - the last text message sent from this phone says: _I love you so much. 4ever us_.

And it's not to him.

It's to Aizen.

He leaves the phone where it sat, grabs her pipe and he runs out of her room where ghost of what was and what wasn't linger.

He runs.

He runs.

He runs.

x.x.

* * *

Much love to Moon of Jupiter 3 3 Thanks to all.


	7. rehab

He looks at all the pictures of the Brown Eyed Beauty.

Maybe she's right, and his room is a shrine.

Maybe she's wrong and it's just memories.

But he can't live in his memories forever, can he?

He hears the sob of his sister resonate through the house. He knows she is drunk, crying and drinking over Gin.

He loves his sister, he really does. But he doesn't want to be like her.

Hopelessly in love with a memory, unable to move forward, can never move backwards.

He loves her - The Brown Eyed Beauty which he once thought was only his - with every part of him.

He doesn't know how to make it stop hurting, but he knows that she once loved him.

….Or _not_…

He is not sure.

The glass pipe with painted rainbow colors, and the smell of smoke reminds him of her. He inhales and all he smells is smoke.

He smells smoke.

He smells smoke.

He smells smoke.

x.

The limestone is not fresh and acutely engraved anymore. It is still elegant, but it looks weathered. As if she, the Brown Eyed Beauty, has gone through trials in the afterlife.

It looks old.

He feels old, but not old enough for the weight pressing on his shoulders.

He is young, but not young enough to be innocent.

He just is, and he doesn't know if that's enough or if it's too much.

He is tired, and he doesn't know if that's right or if that's wrong, but it's what he is.

He knows when _she's_…just there. Out of breath from running over here, summoned by his phone call.

'Momo, this is Karin.' he introduces the Brown Eyed Beauty to her.

He is ready to let the snaky tomboyish girl meet the Brown Eyed Beauty he loved, because in the end, everything changes.

All you can expect is death.

He will grow, and age, and live, and die.

The Brown Eyed Beauty will not grow, or age, or live, or die.

She is frozen forever at seventeen, never an adult but not quite a child, stuck awkwardly in between where so many are lost.

'Karin…' He turns his head to her, '…this is Momo.'

She nods solemnly, 'It's nice to meet you.' A small lopsided smile.

'I love her.' he tells Karin and the limestone marker. 'And I can't stay like this anymore.'

The words come slipping off his tongue fast, and those words hit him hard.

He doesn't really know what he should say, he doesn't have a lot to say, but he knows he has to fill the lifetime they are robbed of.

She doesn't say anything.

She stands behind him allowing him to find his own peace.

'I don't want to hurt. I don't want to…freeze myself to this. I don't want…I don't…' He trails off to decrescendo.

There are promises he can make to the Brown Eyed Beauty, but he doesn't want to make them. He doesn't **want** to tie himself to ghosts any longer.

He wants…

He…

He doesn't know yet, but he knows he won't find it in a limestone grave.

'I…I don't think I'll come here as often anymore.' he says in finality, a little shaken. Not sure who is he telling this to.

He reaches down and leaves it gently at the lifeless grave.

He turns and looks at _her_, which has a sad expression on her face. Still clad in her night clothes because she had rushed here in the early morning hour, she is shivering in the freezing night air.

'You're never really going to say good bye.' she tells him, as he walks past her.

'You'll think of her some days and wish it was you. It's hard…' No she's not going to tell him it's not, '…But it gets easier to stop wishing it was you.' But she comforts him.

He looks at her and he gives her a soft smile – the bloom of a small flower.

'I know.' he says, and he walks towards his car.

He doesn't need to look back to know she is by his side, keeping with his pace.

He doesn't look at the grave of the Brown Eyed Beauty, with her pipe left forgotten on the damp grass.

And…

He walks away.

He walks away.

He walks away.

x.

* * *

And the end. Thank you so much to the beautiful awesome Moon of Jupiter for all her hard work. And I hereby dedicate this to you! Consider it a belated birthday gift babe! Good luck on your midterms, we got a whole new ride for us waiting! Thank you to anyone and everyone who read this, who favourited this, who put this on their story alerts and such. This story meant a lot to me, and by that I have to thank the lovely and awesome SM27, who let me go along with this story, and who from this I've got an amazing friendship, and a harem of every guy...(hey we're missing Supernatrual and Glee...how did we miss that? Dibs on Puck!)

Thank you so much,

Suki


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